


Obliviate

by elhardo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Implied Smut, kind of set in n around cannon, low key angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 09:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elhardo/pseuds/elhardo
Summary: Ever since the first insult pureblood prince, Draco Malfoy, threw at the muggleborn Hermione Granger, Draco had written apology letters. He wrote these apology letters for every glare he sent her when around his friends, every verbal taunt, and general discourtesy he threw at her. But then the letters are found, and action must be taken to keep Draco, and the object of his letters, safe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i originally posted this fic on wattpad, n i decided to publish it here too  
> enjoy:))

"Let's do this fairly, by picking names out of a hat to see who shall be partnered with whom for this thesis project." Ron Weasley gave Hermione Granger a hopeful look. He only wants to be my partner so he doesn't have to do any of the work; a spiteful thought came over Hermione. But what if he actually likes having my company? The romantic side to the muggleborn argued, but she had already brushed off those thoughts and was trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Ah, Seamus and Ron. Once your name has been called, you may leave to go and start the project." The ginger haired boy gave a last longing glance at Hermione before taking his leave.  
"Who's next, I wonder?" Professor Flitwick's petit hand went into the black hat, drawing out two more slips of paper reading the names: "Miss Parkinson and Miss Granger!" The two girls both rolled their eyes. "Run along now, you two." The Professor dismissed the two of them, the latter catching Draco Malfoy staring at her; she narrowed her hazel eyes at him as his gaze darted away.

After finding all the good communal study spots were impressively occupied, including the Great Hall and the Gryffindor common room, Pansy once again rolled her mud green eyes and harrumphed "Come on then," leaving Hermione to almost be attacked by Miss Parkinson's coal coloured, rough hair.

The Slytherin girl halted, swishing her hair once again to face the Gryffindor. "'Cause this is my House common room you're going to be entering I'm not afraid to take precautions with a mudblood Gryffindor entering the sacred hallows of the Slytherin House," Pansy took on an even haughtier look than usual as Hermione repressed the urge to call out the pig nosed girl. Hermione rolled her eyes, making it obvious she did not care for the House proud speeches. Smirking, Pansy Parkinson whipped out her wand and whispered "Petrificus Totalus!" before obscuring Hermione's vision all together and casting Wingardium Leviosa. On the way (Hermione hoped they were still on track and Pansy wasn't going to ditch her in one of Filch's broom cupboards :/), Hermione wished Flitwick had just paired her with Ron. He may be tiresome at times, but at least he wouldn't pull something like this on her; sometimes Hermione felt the prejudice against Slytherin was all a case of misunderstanding and then her Slytherin partner went and did this to her! Now they were in the penultimate year of Hogwarts, Hermione thought of how childish Pansy must be to take pleasure out of doing this to a fellow pupil.

Without warning, Hermione fell from her floating position, ears full of the laughter of others – did she hear the snap of a camera? Glaring up at Pansy, Hermione brushed herself off, holding in her hatred for her Charms partner for work's sake. "Let's just get this done, then we won't ever have to speak to each other again," Staring her out, still smirking, Pansy dropped their combined notes so far onto a mahogany table.

For the next hour, the two girls remained peacefully dedicated to their work; Hermione had never known how ferociously Pansy studied – she had seemed, for the time being, to put aside their blood/ House differences and her company was quite pleasant.

"I just remembered: I made further notes on this last week, but I lent them to Draco."  
"Don't loose your train of thought – I'll go and grab them," Hermione stood, grateful for the excuse to move about, having her legs start to succumb to pins and needles.

The Slytherin common room was not unlike that of the Gryffindor common room; instead of the usual hearth, the Slytherin's fireplace was full of surprisingly comfortable emerald flames, a few turquoise and blue hues thrown into the mix. The high backed chairs and the poufs clustered about the round tables were a mix of green and mahogany, replacing the scarlet and chestnut. The walls had a thatched pattern, made up of all the hues of green – Hermione never knew there could be so many different colours that /were classified and generalised as being just the one colour/ made up just one colour. High windows peered, not into a landscape, but to that of murky darkness. (Hermione had revised Hogwarts: A History so many times that she knew that the Slytherin common room was situated under ground, in the Black Lake but she hadn't really taken note of her surroundings.) Peering out of the cross-hatched window, the Gryffindor jumped back at the sudden appearance of the Giant Squid (fabled to be Godric Gryffindor in his animagus form, but even the lateral thinking Hermione dismissed that tale to abundance of time). The Squid in question seemed to be looking curiously at Hermione, black eyes narrowed, as if to say "You don't belong here".

One thing that was definitely different to the layout of the Gryffindor common room was the location of the dormitories - where Gryffindor's were up a small flight of stairs, the Slytherin's were down a small flight of stairs, doors situated at either end of the small corridor, and to Hermione's eye, unmarked of gender specification. Pansy had said to take the door to the left, third bed from the door. Knocking before entrance, the absence of an answer told Hermione there was no on in there; following Pansy's instructions, Hermione found her previous notes left Draco's bed, along with a folder. Not sure if the folder held further relevant notes, Hermione decided to investigate. But upon opening the folder, she found dozens upon dozens of crumpled papers – letters, it seemed written to...to her. Beginning to decrypt the impressively looping handwriting, Hermione heard her name being called by her work partner; she shoved the letters back into the folder, and the folder into the folds of her robe before returning to Pansy, trying to push astounded thoughts of who had written the letters (surely not Malfoy) and why they were in existence to the back of her mind to constantly ponder over.


	2. Chapter 2

After finishing her work with Miss Parkinson, Hermione rushed back to her own common room on the other side of the castle. Ron and Seamus were still working, it seemed, despite the both of them looking obviously distracted and 100% done with all work for the day. "Hermione!" Ron sat up as she scampered through the portrait hole; she barely glanced at him, the curiosity over what content the letters held eating away at her fueling her sprint up the stairs.

Ferociously reading the letters, a fluttering feeling bloomed in Hermione's stomach as it became apparent the subject of the letters, and who had written them.   
Every letter was signed:

Forever Yours,

Draco

***

"We missed you at dinner yesterday. Basically the whole back end of yesterday." Hermione was barely listening to the second youngest Weasly, distracted. "But I remember eating with you guys last night."   
"I think Ron means you weren't there conversationally," Harry barely looked up from his pre-owned Potions book.   
"Says you, that book may as well be stuck to your hand," she scoffed.

"I still manage to contribute to conversation and not disappear after dinner," Harry did look up this time, straight at Hermione who rolled her eyes in reply, not waning to start an argument. The golden trio sat in near enough silence for the rest of the meal.

***

Having finished reading all of Draco's letters at least once, a tiny thought had started getting louder and louder inside of her mind: Draco Malfoy isn't genuinely horrid – he just feels he has to be!

Wrestling with all of these inner perplexities, Hermione had to know the intention behind the letters. Of course, on the surface, the intention behind the folder of crumpled paper was an apology for every insult he threw her way. Every single one. But did Draco mean something deeper? Or was she reading to far into them? Either way, she resolved to find out.

Hermione had decided to confront Draco - to get him on his own was the best tactic. That's exactly what she did.

As this was the last time it would be nice weather in the North of Scotland for the next couple of months, most students were spending the warm Friday evening in the little town of Hogsmeade. For the first time, Hermione hoped she would see Draco in the morning.

Draco had been spending less and less time with his cronies, so it was a lot easier to corner and interrogate him. Getting away from Harry and Ron seemed to be the challenge, Ron seemed insistent on spending time with Hermione, since Harry was engrossed in his Draco-is-a-Death-Eater theory and his, or rather the 'Half-Blood Prince's, book. "Where do you need to go all of a sudden?" Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "You've been...off, lately."   
"I've had a lot to do," Hermione replied, simply.   
"Hm," Ron's eyes narrowed further. "You've always got a lot on your bloody plate."   
"He's got to be up to something," Harry mumbled, glancing up as Draco rose to leave the tavern.   
Hermione decided to end Ron's questioning with the sufferance of her pride. "Look, Ronald, as you live in a house full of males I expect you haven't encountered the delights of menstruation. Now if you don't mind, I need to go." As Hermione turned to leave, she could almost see Harry's raised eyebrow and embarrassed smile, along with Ron's taken aback, wide eyes. They were off her case, at least for now.   
On the bright side, she managed to catch Draco before he'd gotten too far. But how does she get his attention? Maybe, if she sped just ahead of him, he'd call her out – it was worth a try. Hermione sped up her pace, past Draco and about a meter or two in front of him. Silence. Hermione could barely take the wordless space between them. Whirling around, Hermione spat "Why did you write those letters?" The Malfoy boy was expressionless. That was until what she had just said registered within him. "Excuse me?"   
Hermione crossed her arms. "You heard what I said."

Draco stared at her incredulously, before breaking eye contact. "Those were not for your eyes to see." He sounded ashamed of himself, but could Hermione detect  
a hint of relief?  
Narrowing her eyes at him, Hermione kept on guard. "What did you mean by them?"

Silence.

"I meant them as an apology," A pause. "One that I can't portray in person."   
Stepping closer to the pureblood Slytherin, Hermione relaxed a little, "Then why say those hurtful things?"   
"Because it's what's expected of me." He shook his head; platinum hair reflected in the cool light, "You have no idea how difficult my life is, you stupid girl."

Totally taken aback at Draco Malfoy's mini monologue, Hermione cast her eyes down, using her hands to further express herself "But you're a pureblood that no one can throw around or-or-"

"Hermione!" Grabbing her hands, sharply, Draco forced his gaze upon her, "You aren't listening to me: my life is hell. Yes, I may be of one of the most prestigious families in our wizarding world, but you have no idea what I have to go through every day." All the muggleborn girl could do was stare into the pureblood boy's eyes. At first glance, his eyes were a dull, unremarkable grey, like that of concrete or stone, but now she could see they had been inscribed with the lustrous sheen of polished opals, contradicting the washed out colour, like an old white shirt that's been washed with dark colours a few hundred times too often. There were such stories to be told from his eyes – Hermione found herself wanting to hear every moment, every detail, from those eyes' life.   
"I can't talk now, but I'll explain as much as I can to you some time."   
A small smile crept subconsciously onto Hermione's face, "I'd like that," 

Was the Malfoy boy blushing?


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Draco. It was starting to interfere with her studies – much irritation.   
He'd sent her an owl saying a time and place for them to meet and since then something was constantly stirring in her stomach.  
As Pansy and Hermione worked on their final Charms thesis review, Hermione kept thinking about what would happen in the evening. Draco had instructed her to meet at the Astronomy Tower at half eleven.

"Could you concentrate, please?" Pansy was clearly impatient.   
"Sorry, my mind is somewhere else at the moment,"

Pansy raised her eyebrows and clicked her tongue in reply.

***

The last time Hermione had been to the Astronomy Tower was in her first year with one Harry Potter, to steal away Norbert(a) the baby Hungarian Horntail. She was reminiscing of times past when she thought she heard the lightest of footsteps. Upon turning, she saw Draco. His white hair was made of moonlight, his eyes full of stars, making up their own sky.   
"Good evening, Hermione."   
"Good evening, Draco."  
The two opposites stared at each other before Draco suddenly dropped to the cold floor, crossing his legs – Hermione carefully followed suit as he began his tale.

"Please keep in mind I grew up an only child with only my parents and the house elf for company; sometimes, Luscious would bring over the other Death Eater's children as playmates for me, so I was constantly surrounded by blood purity and dark magic supporters when I was at my most influential point in life.   
"I was raised in an atmosphere of regret that You-Know-Who had not succeeded in taking command of the wizarding community, although I was prudently reminded that such sentiments ought not to be expressed outside of the small family/ friend circle or father might get into trouble.

"Of course, I'd heard stories of the Boy Who Lived and there were many theories as to how Potter had survived what should have been a fatal attack. The theory that my family supported and learned me of was the theory that Potter himself was a great Dark wizard. Preposterous, I know but that is besides my point. It was comforting to my father to think of a second chance of world domination. So, I thought, maybe if I extended my hand of friendship to Potter, I would gain at least some approval from my father. And then Potter refused me for an already formed allegiance to that Weasly, turned me against him – I realised that the wild hopes of the ex-Death Eaters are completely unfounded and frankly, stupid.

"As, at the time, my father was the most impressive person I thought I knew, I modeled my behavior after him. He was respected and wealthy and I thought that if I acted like him, I would be assured wealth and respect. So I acted with disdain and a contemptuous manner to everyone outside of my own inner circle.   
"I see now my actions and feelings towards Potter were mainly that of envy. Envy that he never sought fame, yet was unquestionably the most talked-about and admired person at school and naturally jarred with a boy who had been brought up to believe that he occupied an almost royal position within the wizarding community; envy at his natural talent of flying, a skill I had prided my self on to out-shine and astound all the other first years; envy at his closeness to you."   
Malfoy had held Hermione's gaze for whole of his sad monologue until that point, a sad tear had began its dance in the corners of his eyes.

"I've resorted to many dirty tactics in my quest to get under the skin of Harry Potter, which also deflected onto you. I've never felt remorse to how I acted towards Potter and Weasly, but I have towards you. That's why I started writing those apology letters. The way you exceeded in every aspect of wizarding life, despite having never known it before. Hermione, you changed my perspective on muggle descendants, and the wizarding world all together."

Unable to form comprehendible speech, all Hermione could do was soak up all that he had said like a sponge.

Without knowing what she was doing, Hermione surged into Draco's lap, hugging with force she did not know she possessed. But Draco was hugging her back, crying softly into her, whispering something over and over, that Hermione couldn't quite make out – but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Hermione had scratched the surface of the real Draco Malfoy.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione had always awoken early, and the next morning was no exception – she wanted to avoid Harry and Ron for a reason she couldn't quite figure out.  
The hall was a ghost town, aside from a couple of other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, the odd Gryffindor or Slytherin dotted here and there; she couldn't see Draco at the Slytherin table, on the other side of the Hall.  
She was grateful for the scarcity of her fellow students when another owl arrived for her – she couldn't help to allow herself the smallest of smiles when she saw the flowery handwriting of Draco Malfoy. This letter said to meet in the dungeon storecupboard to 'talk' and Hermione couldn't wait.  
As much as she wanted to see Draco, Hermione was nervous of what Harry and Ron would think if they knew about her budding kinship with Malfoy.  
Finding that she couldn't put meeting Draco off any longer, Hermione tried to keep her pace to a minimum as she made her way through the still-sleepy castle on the early Saturday morning.  
"Draco?" Hermione knocked on the door, feeling the bite of the cool air as she stepped into the surprisingly spacious dungeon cupboard. As soon as a fit of shivering came over the muggleborn, a hand sent a shock of warmth to her body. "Draco! There you are, why are we meeting here?"  
"To talk. Like I said."  
"But about what?" Hermione had an inkling, but she wanted to hear him talk – she'd felt such a connection last time she'd let him talk.  
"I think you know what I want to talk about, Hermione." The way he spoke to her sent sparks all over her body. Hermione looked up at him – for such a spacious cupboard, the two were standing remarkably close to each other.  
"You-you can't tell anyone of what I told you last night. I-I don't even know what I was thinking when I told you it all – and don't even get me started on those damned letters!" Hermione gripped his wrist, "No, Draco, I needed to know, I needed to see those letters because now I know the real you! Everyone can-"  
"Hermione, you don't understand-" Draco started before Hermione once again lurched into his arms, but this time, his lips met hers and that spark she had felt when he'd touched her exploded into a firework. She hadn't known how long she had wanted to until she did. Draco's body didn't even seize up at her touch, the two just connected seemlessly – they were each other's missing piece. The two stood there, entwined in a passionate embrace before Hermione managed to steal her lips back for long enough to whisper, "I won't tell if you won't,"

Draco showed off that trademark Malfoy smirked – she'd always thought it worthy of an eye roll, but now – something had changed.

"I think we have something new to discuss, now,"Hermione smiled up at him as he replied, "I don't think we should discuss this now," Draco traced his lips down Hermione's neck. "But let me be the first to say: I'm actually tremendously glad you found those letters. I am now finally able to say it. I love you, Hermione Granger."


	5. Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger had kept their relationship under the radar for about a month, stealing blissfully happy moments for themselves whenever they could. Whispers of "I love you," were carefully traded, like the kisses of the forbidden lovers that they were; they used every spare moment they had in each other's arms. Their longing for each other burned so strongly - the two could take it no longer. 

Perched on one of the benches in one of the Herbology greenhouses, Hermione pouted, "I can't take not being able to kiss you whenever I want," 

Draco drew away from her, "I want to, too, babe, but we can't,"

"Did you just call me babe?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at her (albeit secret) boyfriend.

Draco smirked at her, "Can I see you again – tonight?"   
Hermione considered it. "Where?"  
"How about that disused charms classroom on the fourth floor? It's nice and ...tucked away from everything." The smirk was still plastered on his face; Hermione playfully pushed at him. "It'll have to be late – I said I'd help Ron and Harry out,"   
Draco rolled his eyes at the mention of the two boys' names. "Fine – as long as I can get you all to myself after. You will come?"   
Smiling at the big eyes Draco was shooting her way, Hermione blushed slightly, "I'll see you later, Draco." She left a lingering kiss on his lips as she turned around and headed to the Gryffindor common room.

***

"What time is it?"   
"Still twenty past nine, Hermione. Stop asking," Harry continued scribbling from the notes Hermione was providing. "But you've already got my notes, why do I need to stay here?"   
"Got somewhere to be, Hermione?" Ron's tone didn't sound snide - he sounded genuinely interested, even laced with a little worry?  
Shrugging, Hermione thought quickly, "I just wanted to get a couple more books out of the library before I go to bed,"   
"You spend your every spare moment in that library, I swear," Ron was looking directly at her; Hermione braced herself for one of Ron's 'comments', "but I guess if you didn't, Harry and I would be screwed." He grinned.  
"Amen to that," Harry piped up.  
"Yeah, well, I'll be going now – see you guys tomorrow," Hermione got up and almost sprinted to the portrait hole – she had said she would meet Draco at half past.  
"I'll walk you to the library," Ron jumped up, fast enough to hold the portrait open for Hermione. She frowned at him, but his conversation en route to the library wasn't awful – it was actually quite pleasant, by Ron's standards. They got to the library and Ron leant by the wall, facing her, "Well. Here you are, then,"   
Hermione nodded at him and turned to enter the library. "Ya know I-we, Harry and I, really appreciate you, Hermione,"   
"Thank you Ronald," She was cautious – Ron wasn't usually this sincere towards her.  
"We really do." Ron's lips found themselves on her cheek. And there they lingered for a moment before Hermione drew herself back and ducked into the library without a word to what had just happened.

Slightly hidden behind the first set of bookshelves, Hermione watched as Ron shook his head, his whole demeanour a little dejected, and trekked back up the stairs.  
It was like Hermione's body had gone almost into shock. Her cheek was burning like the Sun had just poked her; her body was suddenly full of adrenalin, but she managed to control herself. She breathed out, imaging as if she was exhaling all of the adrenalin from her system, and went to meet Draco, banishing simmering thoughts of Ron's lips on her cheek.

"Draco? I'm sorry I'm late – but I'm here now!"   
Hermione was a whirlwind as she entered the disused classroom, but it looked nothing like a classroom. Draco, she assumed, had decorated it with a purple drape, behind a mattress of pillows and blankets, surrounded by candles. "W-what's going on? Draco?"  
He came up behind her, gently massaging her shoulders, "You're late."  
"I know, I'm sorry-" His arms slipped around her waist as his lips began to caress her neck.   
"Draco," she whispered, her whole body tingling. But somehow the words escaped her, "Stop. I-I'm not ready for this kind of relationship yet,"  
He drew back, a perplexed expression owning his face, "What's wrong? I didn't mean to-"   
"Nothing - it's not you, Draco," Hermione shook her head, not knowing what she was thinking. Draco's eyes were boring into her, searching for what could be wrong, "I just-I'm a tad shaken up. That's all,"   
Draco laced his fingers with hers, delicately examining each detail of her hands; "What's shaken you up?"   
"Just- everything, I guess. Everything is just looming around the corner, the Death Eater threats," Draco tensed ever so slightly, before tracing patterns slowly up her arm. "Is that all?"   
"Yeah – we're all just a little paranoid about everything at the moment."  
The two were silent for a few minutes as Hermione tried to banish all thoughts from her head. "Draco, can we just – cuddle for a bit?"   
Hugging her to him, Draco agreed, "Of course. I'll always love you, Hermione, no matter what, you know that, right?", and the two spent the evening a sleepy, tangled mess of Slytherin and Gryffindor.


	6. Chapter 6

As the sun filtered through the drape that Draco had put up, Hermione stirred between the arms of Draco Malfoy. It took her a moment to realise that she wasn't in the Gryffindor girl's dorms, but in the fourth floor disused charms classroom. She shifted her position so that she was facing her pureblood prince, and the way that the sun sparked off of his platinum hair, and his usually annoyed-looking face was calm and peaceful – he looked so much younger, so much more innocent, like he wasn't the son of a Death Eater, an enemy of her best friend; Hermione started to wonder what could have been if Voldemort had never existed in their lives...(Would Hermione and Draco have realised their feelings for each other sooner?) She ran her fingers gracefully over Draco's collarbones – his pale skin was made of porcelain, a cold colour, but warm to her touch - and he opened his eyes, pupils shrinking in the light and focusing on her. "Good morning, sunshine," Draco raised his hands above his head and stretched.  
"We should probably get up," She whispered – maybe if she whispered, they wouldn't have to leave behind their little disused classroom haven.   
"I guess we should," Draco gave her a small smile, pushing strands of her bed head behind her ear; Hermione leisurely rose to a sitting position, stretching, pretending no to notice Draco watching her as she stood and straightened her crinkled uniform, finger-combing her ragged hair.

Placing a gentle kiss on Draco's nose, Hermione gathered herself and left the classroom, glowing.

***

Neither Ron nor Harry wasn't in the Common Room (they were probably at Quidditch practice), so Hermione decided to finish up some bits and pieces in the library.   
She was almost done with her extra Transfiguration essay when she looked up and almost jumped out of her skin – Ron was sat across from her, still in his Quidditch uniform. After looking at each other for a minute, Hermione broke the eye contact and returned to her writing, "What's up, Ron?"  
"Nothing much with me – what's been up with you?"  
"What do you mean?" Hermione didn't look up from her parchment.  
"I mean," He leant in – she could smell his familiar, comforting smell, "where have you been lately? I've hardly seen you over the past month,"   
Hermione looked up at Ron, a confused expression set on her face. Ron cleared his throat, not looking away, "You've been even more distracted than Harry and that damned potions book. I've hardly seen you," Ron's hand was touching Hermione's. She took her hand away – Ron frowned. "Seriously, is there something going on with you?"  
Hermione shook her head and gathered her parchments and quills, rising from her seat at the library. "Hermione? Talk to me! What's going on with you – what are you hiding from me?"   
Calmly, Hermione raised her eyes to him, "I'm not hiding anything from you, Ronald."  
"You obviously are," Ron crossed his arms at her. "You know you can talk to me about anything, Hermione."   
Sighing Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron, "What are you trying to say, Ron?"  
Ron closed his eyes and stepped closer to her; Hermione was glad this section of the library was quite deserted and she and Ron were alone. "Just that I'm, always here for you, for everything. And I want you to feel like you can tell me everything," He gave her an encouraging look, his hands on her arms.  
"Nothing's wrong, Ron – can I not have a life outside of you and Harry?"  
Ron looked taken aback, his hands falling to his sides, "I know that, but I-"   
"You said it yourself, Ron, you guys would perish without me – it's always me who has to save you two! And now I'm finally getting my own life, instead of cleaning up after you, you're realising how much you need me!" Hermione was breathing deeply.  
"I do need you, Hermione! I may have taken you for granted before, but-"  
"But no, Ron. Go and do your own homework for once – go and clean up after yourself and grow up!" Bottled up feelings pouring out of her, Hermione left the library, heading further into the castle.   
She ended up in the dungeons, sitting on the cold floor, waiting for Draco. Hot tears of anger had danced down her face, and she viciously wiped them away – she wouldn't cry over Ronald Weasly - wet anger meant she cared, but she didn't care about him anymore, she just wanted to see Draco.


	7. Chapter 7

At around this time, Draco would be pampering himself before bed and however much she knew it would annoy him for his routine to be disturbed, she just had to see her boyfriend.  
She waited around the corridor that led to the wall of the elusive (to her, at least) Slytherin Common Room, trying to look inconspicuous as Slytherins eyed her curiously as they passed. It felt as if she'd been there for at least twenty minutes and Hermione's cool was starting to boil over and she became antsy. Thankfully, Hermione always had a bit of parchment and a self-ink-sufficient quill on her, even when she wasn't conscious of it; she scribbled a note to her Draco ('Draco- I need to see you. Come and meet me outside of your common room – Hermione x') and waited for the next Slytherin boy from fifth year to walk by. After a while, Hermione got up as she saw Blaise Zabini coming down the corridor, and walked right into him, dropping the note into his pocket, hoping and praying it would make it to Draco. "Watch what you're doing, muggleborn," Blaise spat at her. She may have been riled and still full of hate-fueled energy, but she bit back any action she may have taken against Blaise, giving him instead, her now classic glare before starting down the corridor and pacing, waiting.

Hermione heaved a sad sigh, giving up to go back to the dorm – she'd thought that Draco would come; maybe he hadn't gotten the note that she'd dropped into Blaise's robe pocket. As tears once again were summoned to her eyes, Hermione turned and started back for the Gryffindor tower; "Hermione?" the soft call of her name tickled her ear. She turned back to the Slytherin common room, Draco stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. His platinum blonde hair in this grim lighting looked like a crown; when she had been a little girl, she'd always dreamt of marrying a prince, and here he was, her pureblood prince. Though she was still upset, she internally smirked at Draco's silk dark emerald silk dressing gown.  
Hermione flew back down the corridor, throwing her arms around Draco. "I've missed you," she said into his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his sandalwood soap aftershave.   
"I got your note," His voice wasn't exactly cold, but it wasn't as warm as he usually was towards her; his arms weren't as wrapped tightly around her as usual, either. But she brushed at that aside – it was getting to the midpoint in the school year and the pressure of end of year examinations was settling in. "What's wrong?" He gently prized her off him, holding her shoulders.  
"I just had to see you," Her brown eyes widened as she looked up at him, as people's pupils do when they look at something they adore. Blushing profusely, Hermione reached up for him, snaking her arms around his neck she kissed him longingly. Uncharacteristically, Hermione wanted to just go back to the disused charms classroom and have her way with him.   
For the second time, Draco gently eased her off of him, much to Hermione's surprise – it was usually her that had to tell him to ease off. "Not tonight, Hermione," When she looked closer at him, Draco seemed more taught than usual – his grey eyes murky and jerky, instead of clear and concentrated. "If there's anything wrong, Draco, you can always tell me, you know,"   
"Not this Hermione," He placed a lingering kiss on her cheek, running his hand down her arm, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." With that, Draco turned and disappeared back into the Slytherin Common Room.

***

Hermione's mind was racing – what was Draco hiding from her? Harry was obsessed with the theory that Draco had joined the Death Eaters and was conspiring from within the castle, but as Hermione had gotten closer to Draco, he didn't seem all too passionate for talking about his family and the imminent war. Their preferred topic of conversation was that of intellectual and his possible future. He'd expressed his love for potions and even showed off his uncanny skills in non-verbal spells, giving her some slightly patronizing tips for her own non verbal casting. Although, he didn't seem to take Defense Against the Dark Arts, seeming more interested in the Dark Arts themselves than protecting himself from them.   
Mumbling the password to the Fat Lady, Hermione stepped through the portrait hole. It was getting late and Hermione wanted to get up early tomorrow to finish her Ancient Runes translation piece. Unfortunately, her wanting to go to bed and meditate on this evening's events was not to be fulfilled. Sat by the fire, reading Transfiguration: Vol. V, Ron looked up at her, worry splashed across his face. "Hey,"   
"Hi," She replied, rather curt to his soft.   
"Ar-"  
"Do you know where Harry is?" She cut Ron off.  
"Oh," He seemed a little dejected at her question. "He's in bed, reading that bloody Potions book again. Do you need to talk to him?" Ron tried a weak smile at her, closing his textbook, trying to bring attention to the fact that he was doing his own homework for once.   
"No, it's okay. I'll talk to him tomorrow – thanks," She gave a small, tired smile before heading to the sixth year girls' dormitory to lament over what Draco's distant behaviour could mean, and if Harry could possibly on to something with his Death Eater theory. She'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out more.


	8. Chapter 8

Thankfully, Ron was sat with Lavender Brown at the dinner table, although he occasionally glanced over at her and Harry, who were deep in speculatory conversation. Throughout the day, Hermione had been reflecting on the argument that she'd had with Draco before and was starting to consider Harry's theories.

It had been a week since he'd told her he couldn't talk to her about his mysterious something. The next morning, she had cornered Draco after Charms, pulling him away from his cronies despite him brushing off her "Can I talk to you for a minute, Draco?" Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle had sneered at the two of them as Hermione had pulled Draco by the arm into one of the castle's many broom cupboards. She'd stared up at him, whilst he glared down at her, his grey eyes full of annoyance, "Hermione, you just grab my arm and pull me away in public," But his hard gaze softened as he looked into her eyes

"I mean, you could have ripped my arm out of the socket,"  
"I know we aren't exactly exclusive, but, Draco, I need to know what's going on with you – what did you mean last night that 'this is something I can't talk about with you'?" She made sure that her tone wasn't accusative; she turned Draco's hand palm up and began to stroke the inside of his palm. He looked down at her hand in his, his eyes taking on a sadder tone, "This is one thing I can't tell you Hermione – you know I can tell you everything, but not this," he took his hand back, rubbing his inner left forearm; a voice in Hermione's head whispered that that was the arm that Voldemort's followers wore their Dark Mark, but she brushed it aside - his left arm was also the arm that she had practically pulled out of the socket in dragging him to the broom cupboard.   
"Please, Hermione, don't hold this against me – all relationships have their secrets, and this is the only one I'll keep from you, I swear. And this way, you can keep only one secret from me," He smiled, as if this solved all of their problems.  
"But I don't want to keep any secrets from you, Draco," Hermione searched his eyes for what was truly troubling him. "And I don't want to keep this from you, Hermione – but it's for your own safety. Please, just trust me with this," He took her hands in his, trying to impress his sincerity upon her. But Hermione just lowered her gaze, shaking her head. "You know I wouldn't tell anyone," She paused, "There's a war coming, Draco – even we can't afford to keep secrets from each other,"  
"Oh yeah?" Draco sneered and raised an eyebrow, "If we're not meant to keep secrets from each other, when were you planning on telling me that you let Weasley kiss you?"   
Hermione felt as if he had slapped her across the face, "It meant nothing, so I didn't feel as if it was worth mentioning," she mumbled.  
"Well, I was willing to overlook your lack of mentioning it to me but now..." Draco sighed at her, his air as if this discussion was over and that he had won. Hermione frowned at Draco. "I didn't mean to keep this from you, Draco, but you're meaning to keep this from me," Hermione sighed, her eyes hot from the tears forming; she grabbed Draco's arm, searching him again for anything that may tell her what was going on with him. "Please, Draco. I need to know that I you are truly with me,"  
Draco pulled his arm away, massaging his left inner forearm again. "It doesn't mean I love you any less, Hermione. This means I love you more – I'm trying to keep you safe!"  
"If the past five years have been any indication, I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself, and those I care about, safe." Hermione crossed her arms at him. "You would be keeping me safe by telling me what you're trying to keep me safe from,"  
Draco's eyes turned from stormy to watery grey as he clutched her hands, "I can't, Hermione, you wouldn't-"  
"Don't tell me I wouldn't understand, Malfoy," Hermione ripped her hands from him, her eyes hardening as she realised he wouldn't give himself up to her. She turned from him, her hand on the handle of the door, ready to leave him. "Hermione, please-"  
"No, Draco. We can't keep secrets from each other and you need to stop acting like a coward people think you are and the man I know you can be," She looked into his eyes once again, his grey irises full of sadness. But within that grey was flecks of green and maybe hazel – there was colour and joy under all that dismal grey. And then she had left the cupboard.

"Have you ever heard of this method before?" Harry brought Hermione out of her revive. "No, Harry. I haven't. And would you tear yourself away from that infernal book for two seconds so we could get back to finding out what Malfoy's up to?"   
Harry pulled a face at her and closed the potions book. "Well, I've been working closely with Dumbledore and we're on the verge of something big," He lowered his voice, "He thinks he's found the location of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes and he's taking me with him to try and destroy it. If we find the rest of the Horcruxes, we can destroy Voldemort once and for all! We're leaving tonight to find the second – the diary in the Chamber was the first Horcrux. If you trail Draco today, I'll meet you tonight at the Astronomy tower," Hermione's eyes widened – this was a lot to take in, but at least they had a goal to work towards and she had an excuse to talk to Draco again, not that she needed an excuse to talk to her boyfriend.  
Hermione and Harry left the table and walked to the entrance to the Great Hall "Sounds like a plan; I'll see you there Harry." She hugged him, "Be safe."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry had left Hermione to go and meet Dumbledore but she still stood in the entrance of the Great Hall, gently rubbing her elbow in thought. This revelation on how to truly defeat Voldemort was life-changing – she couldn't leave Harry to do this by himself; with or with or without Dumbledore, Hermione was going to be there for Harry and help him in searching for the Horcruxes (as was Ron, probably, sigh). Depending on how Harry and Dumbledore's venture went, this could mean the inevitable war would either come sooner or later. Hermione bet on the former.

The hairs all over Hermione's body tingled – she turned, pulled from her thoughts by a piercing stare. Draco's eyes were narrowed on her, tunnel vision in the non-romantic way, it seemed. The flecks of green in his eyes were magnified – maybe it was jealousy, green is the colour of jealousy. What could Draco be jealous of? But his stare was still fixated on her, his brows furrowed in obvious annoyance, his posture stiff. Could it be... Harry?!   
Hermione let out a small smile at the thought of Draco even considering Harry and her – he was practically her brother. She could understand if he was jealous of her and Ron, but all of her affection was focused on Draco. Although, she wouldn't deny it felt kind of nice if he were jealous – it would mean he still cared, that they could get past this and he could tell her his 'big secret'.  
Draco's steely gaze was lifted as he murmured something to his crew, bowing his head as he stood up to leave. Like a child, Hermione scrambled to hide behind the great oak doors of the Great Hall. Her boyfriend's footsteps came to a halt just outside of the Hall, his footsteps rocking, as if he was looking around. Hermione thought she might come out of her hiding place and hug him and tell him she's sorry. But Draco sighed and left, heading down the hall. After a minute, Hermione followed, careful to be quiet; it was a late Sunday afternoon/ pre-evening, about half five, and the castle was quiet so she didn't have anyone to hide amongst – and she knew how paranoid Draco could be, especially as of late.

Hermione followed him down the hall to the library – Draco was right behind her in all of their classes, now more than ever and they were both quite competitive over grades. (She loved to tease Draco about it.) Before their big argument, Hermione and Draco would often quietly study together in the alcoves of the library. She recalled when they had first started [secretly] dating and Draco would scribble 'Property of Draco ♡' on her hand or just stare at her as she worked then remark how beautiful he thought she was and how they'd have proper discussions, instead of just theorising about the latest conundrum Harry, Ron and herself had gotten themselves into. They would test each other, critiquing each other's work and wandmanship.   
But tonight, Hermione was standing a bookcase over from Draco, instead of sat shoulder to shoulder with him. She felt like a total creep, watching Draco without him knowing, but Draco had confessed that he used to 'observe' her, trying to build up the courage to talk to her like a normal human being. Draco looked up, grey eyes narrowing at the bookshelf where Hermione had just been standing. Breathing heavily, Hermione

Peeked through the shelves at Draco. He had gone back to his book, shoulders hunched, body bent low over the book he was so intently reading, with a furrowed brow. It was out of character for her to be this paranoid about a boy when there were more important things to be worrying about, but she couldn't stop herself from worrying about Draco. Why was he being so secretive all of a sudden? Draco had always been the most animated person at Hogwarts, and although he still got deeply offended when Hermione didn't laugh at his jokes something had changed in the last week and a half. He had closed in on himself and that spark of creativity was subdued. She understood that Draco had a rough childhood and had been brought up to believe certain things, but none of that had mattered when they were together. But now...

Draco got up and put his book back, watching it as it levitated back to its position on the bookshelf. He sighed, hands in pockets as he left the library heading for the stairs. Hermione waited a moment before she followed.

Despite how chaotically the staircases chopped and changed (it was honestly a wonder how anyone got around thanks to these staircases, but as a sixth year, Hermione knew how best to navigate the castle's abnormalities), Hermione managed to keep on Draco's tail. It seemed he was headed to the seventh floor, where the Room of Requirement was located. Hermione had always wondered what Draco would have thought of the DA. He probably would've been able to let himself go, after a while – to let go of that poisonous Malfoy name. Then they would be able to hold hands down the corridor, and kiss in the open, instead of stuffy broom cupboards, or shut themselves away in disused classrooms. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that Draco was the love of her life, but it would be nice if they didn't have to tiptoe around.  
After Hogwarts was over, maybe Draco and Hermione could just – go? It was a ludicrous idea, but one Hermione fantasised about: her and Draco starting a life together in the muggle world. She'd have to teach the pureblood about muggle customs and lifestyle, and she could just imagine she annoyed look of concentration on Draco's face, as she would teach him how to use muggle technology. (It astounded Hermione how the wizarding community hadn't adopted at least some muggle technologies – it would require less effort than always having to cast a charm or spell.)

 

Draco's footsteps stopped. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks – she had been so inside her head she'd forgotten the task at hand. Having nowhere to hide in the open hallway, she stood stock still, hoping he didn't turn and see her, but at the same time praying that he would. A part of her wanted to run and grab him, to take him away from Hogwarts and never look back, to leave Ron and Harry to it.  
But he didn't, and she couldn't.  
Instead, Draco had stopped just in front of the doors to the Room of Requirement. What was he doing? He was just stood there in front of the doors, staring at them. Then she heard him sigh and enter; she hurried after him.   
Luckily, in this particular version of the Come and Go Room there were plenty of places to hide amongst the piles of... stuff.   
Draco was just on the other side, quietly talking to himself. Hermione tried to listen in, but his voice was too soft. She heard the opening and closing of a door and more murmuring – she couldn't hear him. In all honesty, she didn't want to hear Draco – she wanted to talk to him. She was thinking through what she would say to him, how she would explain that she was here—

Draco was gone. Scrambling after him, Hermione thought over where he boyfriend could have gone – he was no longer in the corridor. She had only been seconds behind him – where could he have gone? Running down the hall, past windows looking out onto the Quidditch pitches Hermione saw him. Blonde hair a halo in the wind, his shoulders back – stiff to the dismal weather. Although he was down on the Quidditch pitch, Hermione saw a peculiar expression set on his face – it was like that of saying last goodbyes. She didn't understand this, they still had a year until they graduated Hogwarts. Well, depending on how Harry's venture went – she may never see Draco again! She couldn't take not talking to Draco; Hermione sprinted down the corridors of Hogwarts to the Quidditch pitches, yelling "Draco? Draco!" into the gradual darkness. Although the two didn't really acknowledge each other during school hours, they linked pinkies in the corridors. Hermione wanted that back, even if it was just until the end of the year, or he had to keep things from her. She loved Draco too much to let anything get between them.

It must have been about half six now and it was getting steadily darker, the weather getting wilder but Hermione had to talk to Draco.


	10. Chapter 10

"Draco? Draco! I'm so sorry, can we just talk?" Hermione's voice was hoarse, and she was starting to shiver quite violently from the wind. Tears were being ripped from her eyes as she wandered around screaming against the wind for her boyfriend. Her voice all but gone, Hermione sniffed and headed back for the castle.  
She didn't know how long she had been out looking for Draco on the Quidditch pitches, but Hermione decided to head to the Astronomy tower, to gather her thoughts before meeting Harry there.  
Taking her time (as Harry, being Harry, hadn't said a specific time), Hermione mulled over her night's to-do list: write to her parents, filling in on how she was doing; run through her homework essays, editing and improving; do some stretches before bed.

Humming the tune to 'Defying Gravity', Hermione flounced through the empty halls, spinning casually as she performed the song in her head. Arms spread, eyes closed, singing the closing line, Hermione sighed. No matter what Harry had done tonight, life would never be simple again – at least for the next year. Hermione pushed aside thoughts of what would happen to her and Draco as she climbed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. She may love him, but she couldn't spend all of her time hung up on their future together – getting hung up on stuff didn't help anyone. All of this year, Harry had just been hung up on who the Half-Blood Prince was, what Malfoy was up to, what Ginny was up to and Hermione wouldn't be like that.  
Her footsteps echoed but she stopped when she saw Harry and Dumbledore; Dumbledore was hiding a paralyzed Harry, tucking the Invisibility Cloak over him. Dumbledore's eyes widened as he saw Hermione. Confused, Hermione kept still, careful not to disturb paralyzed Harry as she watched as a figure emerged yelling "Expelliarmus!" The sound of Dumbeldore's wand hitting the floor filled up the room.  
"Good evening, Draco." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but Hermione's own voice was strangled as her body turned to ice. She couldn't hear anything – only Dumbledore's words echoing over and over inside her head. This couldn't be happening. Her Draco? Why was he disarming the headmaster? Deep down she knew the answer but she couldn't accept it. She was too inside her head – if she could just talk to Draco--  
"...I've got no choice." Draco's voice was unsteady – he wasn't sure of his actions! He

was just as confused and scared as they were! Her right hand was twitching, as she seemed to zone in and out as the dialogue between her boyfriend and the headmaster continued.  
"Draco... you are not a killer..."  
"But I got this far, didn't I?" he said slowly. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here... and you're in my power... I'm the one with the wand... you're at my mercy..."  
"No, Draco," said Dumbledore quietly. "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."  
There was silence for a minute until thundering footsteps came from the other side of the tower – Death Eaters.  
Hermione's vision became clouded as she backed away from the situation. This couldn't be real. Pinching herself, Hermione barely felt the sharp pain but something told her this wasn't a dream.

 

~~Draco's PoV~~

 

Draco was in shock. He backed away slowly from the other Death Eaters, wanting to escape if only for a moment. Draco didn't want this – he didn't want Dumbledore dead, he didn't want to serve a man who was barely a man anymore, and he certainly didn't want to not have to see Granger again.  
Breathing heavily, Draco ran for the door. And of course, there she was. Her frizzy brown hair was hanging limply around her pale face, her hazel eyes wide. H-had she seen...? No. No. If Draco had thought his blood was cold before, it was nothing compared to the ice that consumed him when he realised Hermione had witnessed him with the Death Eaters.  
Hermione's head jerkily moved from side to side, coming to her senses. "Hermione, it's not-" he reached for her hand.  
She shook her head more profusely, jerking away from his touch. "I-I can't believe it," Her voice was scratchy, "I had suspected it, but I hadn't suspected you were such a large and in charge Death Eater,"  
Draco closed his eyes for a second – she had it all wrong. He had no choice in the matter, and he knew he had no choice when it came to keeping his Hermione safe. "I had no choice, you don't understand-"  
"You used me – you used my trick with the coins-" Her voice caught as Draco's heart stopped – she thought he was using her? The silly, stupid, clever witch.  
"You said you'll always love me." He could feel the betrayal she felt.  
"Oh you stupid girl," Draco sighed. "I wouldn't use you. I may be a Death Eater now, but that was after I fell in love with you. I thought you'd read my letters? Could you not see that I've had feelings for you for years? Just because I'm a Death Eater doesn't mean I'm incapable of love – especially of loving you, Hermione."

Hermione gripped his hands back, "Then why don't we just go, Draco? We could just leave – start somewhere new," There was a sad gleam in her eyes. Draco felt his own eyes grow hot with tears. "We-we could," he said slowly, "But I don't want to put you in danger – you mean too much to me."  
Hermione sighed, closing her eyes, drawing herself together. When she opened her hazel eyes, Draco noted the absence of that gleam. It was instead replaced with the hardness of reality. "You said you'll always love me," She whispered.  
Draco allowed himself the smallest of smiles. "We've covered this, Hermione."  
She shook her head steadily. "You-you're a coward."  
Draco's face fell. Biting his lip, Draco accepted what he had to do – no, this wasn't what he had to do. It was just him being a coward. He hadn't been brave enough to ask not to be put in Slytherin – the house where he knew he would end up being broken – he wasn't brave enough to face up to his feelings sooner, he wasn't brace enough kill Dumbledore, and he wasn't brave enough to stay with Hermione.  
Draco Malfoy was a coward. And he was going to take the coward's way out.  
He forced himself to look Hermione in the eye as he drew his wand. "I will always love you, Hermione Granger, never forget that." Hermione clenched her fist and she sniffed, her defiant eyes swam with tears.  
He read her lips, his voice cracking on the word, "Obliviate." 

 

***

 

Hermione's eyes rolled back, her body crumbling as the spell hit her. Draco's eyes swam with tears as he rushed to catch her. She lay, limp in his arms, the weight of the spell taking its effect – erasing all of their fond memories together. Draco wept as quietly as he could, as not to draw the attention of the other Death Eaters. Leaning his face into her neck, Draco whispered. "I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. You deserved to be loved by a better man than I."

 

"Malfoy?" Draco didn't want to leave her. If he could be brave for once – if he could just scoop up Hermione and Apparate somewhere away from the war; it wouldn't matter if she didn't remember their memories, they would make new memories, far, far away from the war.

"Draco! Let's go!" But Draco wasn't brave. Maybe one day he could be – but he wiped his face and gently eased Hermione off of his lap, inhaling his sobs sharply, pushing a hand through his hair, Malfoy walked back to the Death Eaters.  
He comforted himself with delusional thoughts of his actions being brave, in a way: he was giving Hermione a chance at a real relationship. If she didn't remember her relationship with Draco, then she wouldn't have to feel as conflicted as he did between his heart and his life. Yeah, Draco did the brave thing. Because this way, he would be the one to suffer, not Hermione.  
He didn't Obliviate her out of cowardice, he did so out of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's weird bc i acc really don't like the dramione ship but i hoped you enjoyed reading it all the same!!♡♡


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